


unwrap

by kamsangi



Series: daisies in a wheat-field [3]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26872165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamsangi/pseuds/kamsangi
Summary: He’s never touched another guy like this before, he’s never allowed himself to eventhinkabout it too much—but now, he just wants to know more.Interlude: the morning after.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Felix
Series: daisies in a wheat-field [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1938556
Comments: 26
Kudos: 432





	unwrap

**Author's Note:**

> more plot to come eventually. please take this offering as i fall deeper into chanlix brainrot

He dreams.

They come in fits and starts, the images. A flash of golden hair, the smudge of a fingerprint along his cheek, the rise and fall of lights across a star-lit stadium of a thousand voices, echoing in unison as he reaches out and catches a hand in his, pulling until Felix is there with him, beneath him, all around him—

—and he wakes, heavy eyes dragged open by the rush of a memory-turned-dream fading, fading, faded. Chris’ vision swims, even after he’s squeezed his eyes together a few more times to clear the blurriness of having just awoken. The cool breeze of air-conditioning flickers at the nape of his neck, making him shift minutely against his pillow. His nose brushes against something warm.

Chris finally opens his eyes properly to find Felix, still and unmoving in deep sleep, back plastered to Chris’ front, fingers tangled with Chris’ hand that’s curled loosely over his hip. Everything begins to come back to Chris as he breathes in the warm, familiar scent of Felix’s skin. The words they’d exchanged, the kisses they’d traded. The shape of Felix’s affection, drawn out openly across his fingers as he touched Chris’ face and looked at him with wonder. _I told you that I love you,_ Chris remembers, _and you told me that you love me._

They’re home, and Felix is his. He never would’ve imagined that this would happen. Not here, not now, not ever.

Chris is about to close his eyes again when Felix shifts back against Chris, still asleep, and—Chris bites back a sudden inhale at the abrupt contact that sends a jolt of panic and a rush of sensation through him all in one go. _Shit,_ he thinks, tilting his head back as he takes a steady breath, he should’ve moved away sooner. It’s been ages since he’d woken up with morning wood, and of all the times to—he really feels like the teenager he thought he’d already grown out of being.

There’s a soft mumble, and Felix moves again, sounding like he’s just on the brink of waking up, and Chris can’t do anything but stay completely still, pleading for Felix to not notice his problem.

But—the back of Felix’s thigh brushes up along the hardening line of Chris’ erection, soft and inviting, and Chris is only a man.

Felix stills, and Chris knows for certain that he’s awake now.

“Sorry,” he whispers, hot embarrassment flooding his nerves, “sorry, let me just—”

Felix snatches his wrist before he can pull away, and Chris’ words die in his throat when Felix tugs him closer instead with a sharp inhale. The hard line of Chris’ dick rubs up along the tight curve of Felix’s ass, warm and firm even through his sweatpants. “It’s okay,” Felix whispers, the low rumble of his voice sending something shivery and wanting down Chris’ spine. “Have you—”

“Never,” Chris murmurs, afraid to move, every cell in his body already lit up and shaking from just the _thought_ of being this close to Felix, “you?”

“I haven’t.” Felix’s grip on Chris’ hand doesn’t loosen. Instead, he slowly tugs his hand down, down towards the waistband of Felix’s sweats, until Chris can just curl the tips of his fingers around the drawstring. “Chris,” he says, and Chris holds his breath, eyes falling shut. “Do you want to?”

Chris’ exhale escapes through his teeth forcefully, his resistance very quickly waning with each and every passing second. He doesn’t know why he’s so hesitant. Felix is willing and wanting and right here. “Yeah,” he finally says, and Felix lets go of Chris’ arm, “yeah, can I?”

“Please,” is all Felix says, all he has to say, before Chris lets his hand move all the way down to Felix’s crotch to lightly palm at Felix’s slowly growing arousal through the thick fabric, curiosity stirring when he feels how hard Felix is getting with each touch. He’s never touched another guy like this before, he’s never allowed himself to even _think_ about it too much—but now, now he knows what it’s like.

He wants to know more.

Chris feels a little bolder. He hooks his thumb into the hem of Felix’s tented sweats and underwear before he pushes down, freeing Felix’s cock. Chris hooks his chin over Felix’s shoulder to get a better look, and feels his mouth go absolutely dry at the thick, solid shape of him. _He’s pretty,_ Chris thinks absently, finally wrapping his hand around Felix to give him a few experimental strokes. Pink and pretty and _wet._ Pre-come is already leaking from the slit of his cock. Chris wets the pad of his thumb with it and strokes a bit harder, tightening the circle of his fingers around Felix as he watches, enraptured, as his hand slides up and down his length.

Felix lets out a choked-off noise, pushing his hips up into Chris’ grip. White noise fills Chris’ mind the moment he presses back against Chris, the friction against his own cock feeling so, so good. He can’t help but grind up against him, wanting more of that friction, and Felix lets out a moan, reaching back to tug at Chris’ hip.

He can feel Felix’s heartbeat through his back, their t-shirts suddenly feeling thinner than air, skin warming up even in the low temperature of their room. He can feel the heat of his skin, the way his breath hitches. He never thought he’d get to touch Felix like this. It’s better than anything he’s ever imagined.

_It’s real._

“Off,” Felix says, voice hoarse and deep, as if he’s just spent six hours recording—and Chris knows he won’t be able to hear Felix’s voice like that again without thinking of this moment, “pants off,” and they both fumble to get out of their sweatpants, kicking and tossing them aside, not caring where they land as long as they get to feel each other.

And then—it’s even better like this, bare skin on bare skin. He’s already slick with need as he slides back up against Felix, and he has to catch his breath, faint with arousal. Chris’ exhilaration turns almost feral when Felix’s voice cracks down the middle on Chris’ name and ends in a whimper. A singular, unending need thrumming through his entire body, _Felix Felix Felix._

Belatedly, he realises that they’re not completely alone—their members and staff are right around them on the same floor, in rooms just a wall or two away, and he puts his free hand over Felix’s mouth to keep him quiet. “Shh,” Chris murmurs, lips brushing against the shell of his ear, and Felix’s next moan comes muffled, sounding like he’s even more turned on than before, “someone’s gonna hear us.”

To keep himself from making too much noise either, he buries his face against the back of Felix’s shoulder, occupying himself by pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses against the skin of his neck, his nape, and along the gorgeous curve of his back. Felix nips at his fingers, pants against his closed palm, arches back into his hand and shudders with low whines that Chris wants to hold in his memory forever, if he doesn’t lose his mind because of this first.

Then, Felix makes a sound that’s somewhere between a moan and Chris’ name again, like there’s nothing else separating the two anymore, the pleasure that he’s feeling and Chris, just Chris, nothing else but Chris.

He’s absolutely gonna lose his mind. Chris is going to go absolutely crazy. Felix made that sound because of him, Chris realises, feverish and desperate to hear him again, Felix made that sound because of _him._

“Turn around,” Chris says, voice rough, and Felix bats Chris’ hand away as he all but throws himself around to face Chris, immediately going in for a kiss that winds Chris up so fast that he gets dizzy with it. The feeling of Felix’s hot, wet tongue against his, the bite of his teeth along Chris’ lip, the way he sounds, shaky and uneven when Chris takes the both of them into his grasp, his hand big enough to jerk them both off at once.

It’s so good—Chris has never felt better in his life. When he drags his fist all the way down to the base of both their cocks before pulling back up, his thumb catches on the head of Felix’s cock, pushing both of them together in one slick glide. Chris’ eyes squeeze shut, mouth falling open as his chin dips to his chest. Blood rushes through his ears, his pulse rocketing through the roof.

Felix, on the other hand, is struggling to keep his eyes open, so flushed across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose that his freckles look even darker against his skin. His mouth is swollen from their earlier kiss, and Chris nuzzles at him again, letting out a hard inhalation when Felix reaches down to cup his balls with one hand, the unexpected pressure driving him even closer to the edge of coming.

They’re barely kissing anymore, just curled up together and panting into each other's mouths, greedy for skin-on-skin contact. Chris just wants to touch Felix everywhere, hold him close, make him feel good, so good, better than anything Felix has ever felt before. “’Lix,” Chris whispers, “Felix, please,” and Felix bites at Chris’ jaw, and then at his clavicle, and it’s the kiss that he sucks into Chris’ skin that does him in.

He comes in wet pulses, shuddering on a long, drawn-out whine against Felix’s hair, and his mind blanks out for a few blissful moments, leaving him floating and weightless all the way down to his toes that are curled into the sheets. When he comes back to himself, shaken and starved for breath, Felix is tensing up against him, teeth sunk into the curve of Chris’ shoulder as he comes in stripes across his stomach. Chris strokes them through the last blips of it until Felix is too sensitive to go on, pushing weakly at his arm to make him stop.

There’s come all over his hand, his wrist, their stomachs, even the scant space between their bodies where the sheets had rucked up—but Chris couldn’t care less, overwhelmed and caught up in the earth-shaking euphoria of having just done _that_ for the first time ever.

For a long moment, there’s no other sound but their breathing, harsh and quick. Felix’s eyes are still shut, face tucked against Chris’ shoulder.

Chris takes a second to let it sink in. The unbelievable.

It really is unbelievable. In what universe would he have been allowed to have this—to know? To know what Felix looks like, sounds like, tastes like, when he’s coming. There’s no turning back from here. Again, he knows, he knows that it’s selfish (just _be_ selfish, Chris), but he wants more. He wants all of Felix, if Felix will let him.

And he’ll give Felix all of himself in return.

Finally, Felix tilts his head up, eyes fluttering open drowsily. “Chris,” he says, all soft and dazed, the sweetest, most content smile on his face, and Chris can’t help but lean in for another kiss, fond and overflowing with affection.

“Was that okay?” Chris whispers, reaching up to stroke Felix’s cheek, gentle and cautious. Felix just nods, curling his hand into Chris’ completely ruined shirt. God, they’re a mess. But it’s fine. It’s more than fine. “Yeah? Okay.” He lets out a breath of a laugh, suddenly feeling vulnerable in his own skin. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

Felix laughs too, ducking his head to hide his embarrassment. “It was… good,” he says quietly, sounding like he can’t quite believe it either. “But I really, really need a shower now.”

Chris’ jaw cracks on a yawn. “You go first,” he says. “I’ll just lay here a little longer, I don’t mind.”

“Maybe you need to sleep in more,” Felix says, teasing. “Don’t people need more rest when they get older?”

In retaliation, Chris tickles him, and Felix lets out a giggle, squirming away. “Trying to be funny, huh,” Chris murmurs, but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence, mouth claimed by Felix in yet another kiss. He doesn’t mind. He’d never understood why people were so keen on kissing, not until now—he thinks he could get addicted to this, the gentle push-and-pull, the intimacy of it all.

Eventually, Chris pushes Felix away and says, “Go, shower.”

“Going, going.” Felix sits up and stretches, and Chris watches him appreciatively, finally letting himself look at Felix properly for the first time. The lanky, cat-like curve of his body, the slimness of his wrists and his ankles. His pretty, pert ass, barely covered by his sleep-shirt as he gets out of bed and pads to the bathroom.

Chris rolls back against the sheets and stares up at the ceiling, still catching his breath.

It’s real. It’s happening.

He knows there’s a lot more to unpack, but just for now—just this one week, while it’s just them, right here, right now—he just wants to have this.

 _And then, after,_ Chris thinks, _we’ll handle whatever comes our way, together._

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](http://twitter.com/SSEOMT)


End file.
